


Shades Of P'Jem

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Other Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-11
Updated: 2006-03-11
Packaged: 2018-08-16 04:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8086765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Shran has been haunting Captain Archer's dreams since the incident at P'Jem. Archer/Shran. (10/14/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers, 1.07 "The Andorian Incident."  
  
Ane said she wanted Archer/Shran, so...here's my whack at it. I've been waiting for an Enterprise bunny to be more than just a hopping blur and *this* is the first one to stay?  
  
OK. This is unbetaed, and my first attempt at Enterprise. So, I hope you all like it.   


* * *

I'm suspended naked from a ceiling. Shran and his cronies dance around me, chanting. They prod and poke and pull at my body, their eyes vicious and angry, as their faces and voices blur...

"You must enjoy pain."

"Pink-skin!"

"We're in your debt."

"Pain. You must enjoy pain. Pink-skin!"

"We're in your debt. Debt. Pain. Pink-skin! You must enjoy pain. Pain. You must enjoy pain. We're in your debt. You must enjoy...Pink-skin! ...in your debt. ...enjoy...pain...you must...in your debt...pain...enjoy...you must..."

* * *

I wake up from the dream thankful it was at least different from the others. That was a new one, actually. I know I'll never get to sleep again tonight, so I comm Trip.

* * *

"You wanted to see me, Captain?" Trip's at my door.

"Yes, please—come in." He walks in and makes himself at home. Porthos jumps into his lap and he begins stroking my dog, waiting for me to let him know why he's here.

"Some...things have been bothering me," I pause. He's my best friend, but that doesn't mean I find it easy to confide my feelings to him. I like to keep a professional distance. I _need_ to keep a professional distance. But, I can't go to T'Pol with this. There's Phlox...but...no. Right now, I need to get this out to someone, and Trip's my best bet. "Some things about P'Jem have been disturbing me. Would you mind listening to your old captain ramble on for a while?"

"Jon, you know I'm here for you, whenever you need a friend." I smile at him, take a seat and sigh.

"It started that night at the Vulcan monastery." He waits patiently for me to collect my thoughts. "I've been plagued by dreams of him ever since." At his questioning look I add, "Shran. There's one in particular that maybe if I share, will leave me alone." Trip nods and I begin relating the dream that has kept me awake at night for some time.

* * *

I'm in the monastery, face down on the floor once again, while they beat me. Though I know I need to stay focused and keep my mind on what's going on around me, my brain has other ideas. Lying there, trying to catch my breath, all I can think about is Shran. Instead of the rough carpet against my cheek, it's a plush blanket, set down on a warm floor. I'm face down, wrists restrained above me, my legs spread wide, but free, and he has that big, black boot planted squarely between my shoulder blades, using just enough pressure to keep me in place.

"You like pain, don't you, Pink-skin?" he asks, as he presses harder onto my back. I moan in response, aching for him to end this torture.

"What was that?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

[Grunt] "Yes, my liege, I like the pain."

He removes his foot from my back and squats over me, straddling me, but does not put his weight on me. I can feel his presence, hovering above my hips. I can smell the leather he's wearing, and that sugary sweet scent he has. Did you notice that? He smells like cotton candy. His hands begin massaging my shoulders, squeezing and kneading them.

"Tell me, ~Captain~," the way he says it is like a sneer, "Why do you like the pain?"

I must have taken too long to form a reply because he reached one hand behind and smacked me hard on my already sore ass.

"I SAID TELL ME!"

"It's...ugh...real. I know I'm...ahh...alive...when I...feel it."

"Is that all?" He seemed to take pity on me, finally resting his weight on me, straddling just above my hips. He leaned forward, one hand on each of my shoulders, his face close to my ear, his leather jacket rubbing against my back. "What else?" he whispered, hot breath caressed my neck.

"It helps me." Long pause. "To deal with the stress."

"Of course," he brings his face to the other side of my head, "You can't focus on the mental anguish while dealing with your physical pain. Is that right?"

Ashamed, I reply, "Yes. My liege." He chuckles and begins sliding down my body, brushing his antennae over my skin. It's a ghost of a touch and it enflames me. He settles between my legs. His hands work the flesh of my ass, lifting, separating, and caressing me. He spreads me open and I shudder, the anticipation of what's to come too great.

He chuckles again and removes the plug he had inserted in me earlier. Tossing it aside he runs his tongue along my ready hole. I can't take it anymore.

"Permission to beg, my liege."

Another chuckle, "Granted."

"Fuck me, please. Hard, now, please, just...end this. Make me forget, please." I feel him sit up, hear him unzip those damn leather pants. He runs his hands along my legs from the ankles up and positions himself.

* * *

"He enters me and that's when I wake up. Sometimes coming, sometimes having just come." I look at Trip and he makes a noise and cocks his head. A speechless Trip is rare indeed. We spend the rest of his visit playing with Porthos and catching up on ship's gossip. You'd be surprised what people will tell Trip Tucker. Not that I'm any different; he's a good listener. And, I know when he needs to—he can keep a secret.

I walk him to the door and he smiles at me as he leaves. I feel better for having told someone. Perhaps Shran won't haunt my dreams tonight.


End file.
